Wonder Woman and Superman in For Drama Sake
by NWHS
Summary: A gap filler for Diana and Clark's break-up.
1. Chapter 1: Regrets

**For Drama Sake**

 **Author's Note:** Because I'm so annoyed at the mishandling of the Diana and Clark relationship, I decided to write this short story about their break-up and hope for an eventual reunion. I have no idea, of course, what will happen with the pairing. But this little story kept coming to me and wanting to be told. The break-up, as far as I'm concerned, is definitely drama for drama sake. Hence, the title of the fic.

 **Chapter 1: Regrets**

 **Metropolis**

"So, umm, have you seen her lately? Spoken with her?"

"You know, Clark, ever since the two of you broke up you've developed an annoying habit of referring to Diana as 'her.' She has a name. One you know quite well."

"You're not helping, Bruce." Clark stretched long legs out on his sofa. The piece of furniture not large enough to accommodate his tall frame, but it was better than talking to Bruce while reclined in a big bed that held far too many memories.

"Helping? Is that what I'm supposed to be doing? Because you haven't said much since you called me five minutes ago."

"I needed someone to talk to."

"You can talk to me about anything. But I am surprised you want to talk about Diana. I thought the break-up was the one subject that was off limits between us. A touchy issue best left alone."

Clark snorted, finding it ironic that the very man who spied on Diana and Clark when they'd first gotten together was now taking a mind-my-own-business approach.

"Since when have you left touchy issues alone, Bruce?"

To Clark's surprise, Bruce didn't respond right away, allowing many seconds to pass before he answered him.

"Look, you and Diana are my friends. And as your friend, I can tell you, Clark, that I've never seen the two of you happier than when you were together." Another lengthy pause. Clark sat up, swinging his bare feet onto the floor. "And now you're not. It's painful to see, to watch."

"What else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just say it already. Everyone else has, why not you?"

"Then you don't need me to say it, Clark. Relationships are complicated. No one, except for you and Diana, knows what happened. It's not for me or for anyone else to judge."

True, but everyone looked at him as if he was the biggest moron in the world.

"You've been through a lot lately. No one can truly understand all the changes you've experienced. Although I'm sure Diana tried."

She had. She did. But no, no one understood. Some days, neither did Clark. Even now, months later and having regained all of his powers, Clark still felt vulnerable and too raw. So much. Too much had happened. And when he looked at himself in the mirror, he didn't always like the grim-faced man staring back at him.

No, he wasn't happy. He hadn't been in a long time.

"I don't know what to do." Clark's broad shoulders slumped. "I broke up with her, told Diana I didn't know if I loved her anymore." The admission tasted like spoilt milk on his tongue and felt like sulfuric acid in the pit of his stomach. He dropped onto the floor, feeling as if he'd gone ten rounds with Doomsday.

"You told her that?"

The words were softly spoken, but not so soft that Clark couldn't detect the slightest hint of anger, of disapproval. Even the Batman couldn't hide his shock. He'd only ever said those words to Bruce. Everyone else who wanted to know, Clark had simply told them that he and Diana were no longer a couple. For those who pushed for more details, like Lois, Lana, and Trevor, Clark had confessed that he was the one to end things. And they'd gaped at him as if he'd grown a forked tongue and a demon's tail. It was an unintended insult he took in stride. But he didn't like the assumption that, if he and Diana were to break up, Diana would be the one to leave him.

"Why would you say something like that to her?" An unconcealed snarl in Bruce's second question. "Why would you lie to her?"

Clark closed his eyes, shame and guilt twin blades sticking from his chest, piercing his heart.

"At the time, I thought it was true."

"No you didn't." It was a sharp, impatient retort that had Clark opening his eyes. "It's three in the morning. I assume you didn't call to tell me lies or to convince yourself you've stopped loving Diana. What do you want from me?"

What did he want? Why had he called Bruce at such an ungodly hour?

The blades hurt like hell, making breathing damn near impossible.

"I don't know what to do."

"About Diana?"

"About my life, my heart." About her, who was his life, his heart.

"You do know. But you're afraid. Or maybe you're just a coward, Clark. You pushed Diana away and now you can't live with the consequences of your own broken heart."

Clark smiled a sad little smile. Now he knew why he'd called his friend so early in the morning. Tough love. The Batman could dish it out like no other.

"Say the rest, Bruce."

"You don't want to hear it."

No Clark didn't. He already knew.

"Tell me anyway."

"It's obvious to anyone with eyes that you love Diana. That you are _in love_ with Diana. But, for whatever reason, you've decided not to act on your feelings for her. Worse, you went so far as to tell Diana you no longer loved her."

"I didn't say I was no longer in love with her."

"What you said was actually worse, Clark. Knowing for sure that you no longer loved Diana is one thing, but telling Diana you no longer knew if you loved her is something entirely different. The first is simple and straight forward. Painful, sure, but clear. The second is ambiguous and confusing as hell. What was she supposed to do with that kind of declaration? What did you think she would do? Wait around for you to figure out your heart, your mind, and where you she fit into your life?"

Any neutrality Bruce had exhibited early in the conversation was long gone. Bruce was, undoubtedly, Clark's friend. But he was also Diana's friend, which made Bruce's words all the more difficult to listen to and to ignore.

"If you want Diana back, which any sane man would, you better know precisely what you want and how you feel before you go to her. Otherwise, Clark, just leave it alone. Leave her alone. Eventually, your heart will mend and you'll get over Diana and she'll get over you."

That was part of the problem, Clark didn't see himself getting over Diana any time soon. And he damn sure didn't know what he'd do if or when she got over him. Hell, Clark couldn't say for sure that she hadn't already fallen out of love with him. Moving on with her life while he floundered in the muck and mire of his shattered heart, his smothered desire.

"You're an idiot, Clark."

"I know, Bruce." _I know._


	2. Chapter 2: Not Ready

**Chapter 2: Not Ready**

 **London**

"I should go."

"No, what you need to do is get off that stool and get on the dance floor."

Diana swirled, for the twentieth time, the straw in her lemon-lime water. Perhaps she should've had something stronger than water, maybe a Diva Vodka like Hessia.

"I don't want to dance. I'm fine just sitting here being an observer." Diana took a sip from her tepid drink, and then placed it back on the well-worn wood of the bar in front of her. She shouldn't have gone there tonight, shouldn't have let Hessia talk her into going to this dance club. Although, Diana had to admit that the rock band, especially the drummer and guitarist, was beyond amazing. She couldn't deny musical talent like that.

"You can't keep this up."

Diana ignored her sister and friend. She'd heard it all before. And knew she would hear it again. So Diana cast her eyes onto the dance floor, watching everyone else enjoy themselves.

"He isn't worth it, Diana. No man is truly worthy of an Amazon's heart. Though, I had given Clark more credit for being worthy of my queen's love. I guess I was wrong."

Diana watched as a man, about six-feet tall, pull a petite woman into his arms. Wrapping possessive hands around her waist, the man lowered his lips to the woman's ear. A second later, the woman giggled, and then turned her face upward for the man's kiss. Bodies and mouths pressed together, the couple swayed to the slow ballad the band played.

Diana looked away.

And found Hessia staring at her, dark eyes shadowed with knowing and worry.

"I'm fine. And Clark is a good man, Hessia. I don't want you saying otherwise."

"I never said he wasn't a good man. I said he's not worthy of your love. And he certainly doesn't deserve the faith you've placed in him."

That wasn't true either. Sometimes, like tonight, Hessia could be as narrow-minded about men as any of their sisters. But Diana understood what Hessia was doing, even if the woman was willing to castrate Clark in order to make Diana feel better.

"I don't want to talk about Clark."

"You don't have to want to talk about him. He's always here, even when he isn't." Hessia lowered her voice even more, not that she was particularly loud in the first place. "You work, as Wonder Woman and as Queen of Themyscira. And that's it. Day in and day out. You don't go out anymore, Diana. You don't laugh, shop, or have fun the way you used to. And it's all his fault."

No, not Clark's fault. But Hessia was right. She'd turned into the type of woman unbecoming of an Amazon, least of all a goddess and queen. While she had no control over Clark's thoughts and choices, Diana certainly had control over her own.

And this moping she'd been doing, for the past few weeks, well, she'd had enough of it. Part of Diana had been waiting for Clark to come to his senses and seek her out, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. While another part of Diana had been angry and hurt, cursing herself for opening her heart up to Clark and leaving herself vulnerable to his rejection.

Reject her he did – her love, her protection, her concern.

He'd wanted none of it. Diana used to think Clark only felt that way, had acted-out because he didn't know how to best handle all the changes that had taken place in his life. Changes that were beyond his control – like losing his powers and being outed as Superman.

When all of that had happened, Clark had been under tremendous stress. For his entire life, he'd kept Superman separate from Clark Kent. Now, all the world knew his deepest, darkest secret. And they'd judged him - the man, the alien, the hero.

Diana had known Clark couldn't live a dual life forever. But he'd refused to see the truth for himself, thinking Diana blind to the importance of keeping his identities a secret. True, she didn't understand completely all that being Superman and Clark Kent meant to him. But she knew that lies of that magnitude always had a way of rearing its head.

Diana was a living example of how lies and secrets, no matter how old, had a way of finding their way into the light. Hippolyta had made the same mistake as Clark, thinking she could fool everyone, protecting herself and those she most loved with her lies. Well, Hippolyta had been wrong. So had Clark, both having paid a price bigger than the secret they'd kept.

"I apologize. I know I haven't been much fun tonight."

"I don't want an apology, Diana. I want my sister back. Trust me, I know the pain of a broken heart, so there's nothing for which you need to apologize. For feeling lonely? Sad? Hurt?" Hessia patted Diana on the shoulder. "All normal, I assure you, Diana. But you're stronger than this and Clark's a fool for letting you get away."

Diana smiled down at Hessia. "You're just saying that because you're my friend."

"No, I said those things because they're true. The fact that I haven't killed Clark Kent for hurting you is because you're my friend."

Diana reached over and hugged Hessia, grateful to have the older woman's confidence. Diana couldn't talk to Hera about Clark because the goddess had a vengeful streak a mile wide. And Zola, well, her friend didn't have the best track record with men.

"You wouldn't try to kill Clark. You like him. You've always liked Clark."

"Well, not any more. Not when he's responsible for taking away your sunshine."

"I'm responsible for making my own sunshine," Diana said when she pulled away from Hessia. "I shouldn't give anyone that much power over my life. Not even Clark."

"Ah, now you sound like the Amazon I know and love."

Hessia's eyes traveled over Diana's shoulder and to something behind her. Diana didn't turn to see what had captured her friend's attention, but she didn't have to. Diana had sensed a set of eyes on her for the last five minutes.

Hessia leaned it to Diana and whispered, "Don't you dare say no. Have fun. And, for once, don't think about Clark Kent." With that, Hessia slipped from her stool and sauntered away. Thirty seconds later, she was swallowed up in the bustling crowd of partyers, the ballad over and replaced by an upbeat dance tune.

Diana shook her head and smiled.

"I hope you haven't rejected me before I even had a chance to deliver my best line."

Diana swiveled her stool, turning her body in the direction of the deep, masculine voice. She knew the accent—British Jamaican—but she didn't know the man.

Her eyes traveled upward, way upward, to a man at least six inches taller than Diana. And whose eyes and skin were as beautifully bronze as a Tiger's eye gemstone - lustrous and enchanting.

"Your best line?"

The man inched closer, taking the seat left by the man to Diana's left. Who, apparently, had followed Hessia onto the dance floor. The guy, whose eye Hessia, had caught would be back soon enough, Diana thought with a bit of wry amusement. Hessia may date younger men, which, based on how old Hessia was, despite her appearance, all men were her junior. The Amazon did not look twice at men who were barely old enough to drink. The young man would be better off setting his sights on the flock of college girls who littered the dance floor instead of on an Amazon who could break him in two.

The stranger smiled at Diana, full lips and pearly white teeth. "I have several best lines, actually. Would you like to hear them?"

Since coming to Man's World, Diana had heard more than her share of come-on lines. Many in a place just like this night club. If she and Clark were still together, Diana would've politely declined and sent the handsome stranger on his way. The way she'd done dozens of times since committing herself to Clark. But she and Clark were no longer a couple, no matter how much that truth pained her.

Her fidelity no longer belonged to him. Clark had lost all right to it when he broke things off.

Diana twirled her straw again, done with the drink but a bit nervous speaking with a man whose chocolate eyes glowed with intelligence and unhidden attraction.

"Will I like your best lines? Or will they make me regret being nice to you?"

His smile grew, and Diana knew she would like the stranger's best lines.

"I'm Nathan and my pick-up lines are the best in all of London."

Nathan extended his hand and Diana took the offer. "Pleased to meet you Nathan, I'm Diana."

And there went Nathan's high-wattage smile again. The man really did have the most adorable smile. And Diana tried, very hard, to not compare Nathan's smile to Clark's.

She tried.

And she failed.

Nathan's was nice, quite nice, but Clark's—damn the Kryptonian—was better.

"Diana, huh. A beautiful name for a stunning woman."

"I hope that wasn't one of your best lines."

Nathan frowned. "Heard than one before, have you? Well, as gorgeous as you are, I would've been gobsmacked if you hadn't."

Diana couldn't help but smile at Nathan. He was definitely hitting on her, but doing it in such a sweet and funny way Diana could forgive him for not having a smile as wonderful as Clark's.

Then she chastised herself for, once again, thinking of him. Thinking of him when she had no doubt he no longer thought of her.

"Okay, since you obviously like music, what about this line? You must be a choir director because you make my heart sing."

"That's awful."

"Okay, how about, damn girl, you're lookin' sharp?"

"That's even worse." Diana laughed.

"You had me at cello?"

"You're really bad at this, Nathan."

A shrug of his broad shoulders. "It was either those cheesy lines or this one. My buddies bet me that I wouldn't be able to start a conversation with the most beautiful woman in the club. Wanna buy some drinks with their money?"

Nathan pointed to a group of guys about thirty feet away. When they saw Diana looking at them, five men, with big grins on their faces, waved at her.

"I may have slightly exaggerated about the best line," Nathan offered his hand to Diana again "but I assure you, I'm one hell of a dancer."

Now that was the best pick-up line Diana had ever heard, all the others clearly meant to lead up to the last one. And no, she had no doubt Nathan, with his long legs and graceful movements, was one hell of a dancer.

"Do me the honor, Diana?"

Hessia's words floated back to her. _"Don't you dare say no. Have fun. And, for once, don't think about Clark Kent."_

Diana allowed Nathan to lead her onto the dance floor. And he was a damn good dancer, not handsy the way some men could be, using the tight quarters of the dance floor to take advantage. Nathan was a gentleman, slipping his business card into Diana's hand when they shook good night, instead of asking for hers.

She held the card now, as Hessia drove Diana home.

"Are you going to call him?"

"I have no idea. I don't think I'm ready."

Diana thought Hessia would argue. But her next words surprised Diana. "You aren't ready, not even for a tall, sexy distraction. But I'm proud of you. You danced, laughed, and let an attractive man flirt with you. That's enough for one night. You needn't push yourself to do more."

Diana had no intention of pushing herself. Tonight was nice, a boost to her womanly pride and ego. But it wouldn't be fair to begin dating Nathan, or any other man, while Diana still felt so conflicted over her feelings for Clark.

She crumpled the business card and dropped it into her purse.

Hessia made a sharp turn, speeding through the yellow light and just missing the front bumper of the car she cut off. The Amazon was truly a horribly aggressive driver.

"Did you get the feeling that someone was watching us, me, tonight?"

Hessia made another questionable turn. "No, why? Did you sense someone?"

She had. At first, she thought it was Nathan. But after he'd sat down and they began to talk, Diana still felt as if she was being watched. Even when she and Nathan had taken to the dance floor, sweating it up and burning calories for the better part of an hour, Diana still sensed eyes on her.

"I didn't see anyone."

"Which, in your world, doesn't mean someone wasn't tracking you."

"True. But it didn't feel threatening, which was why I pretty much ignored it."

"Do you feel it now?" Hessia glanced out her rearview mirror. "I don't see anyone behind us."

Diana reclined in Hessia's leather seat and closed her eyes. She wasn't in the mood. If someone was lurking in the darkness, then let the person come. Otherwise, they could just bugger off.


	3. Chapter 3: Truths

**Chapter 3: Truths**

 **Themyscira**

As soon as Clark landed, he knew this was a bad idea. But he'd made so many poor choices, these past months, what would one more matter?

Except that, well, two dozen Amazons armed with magic-laced swords were surrounding him. None he knew and all looking as if they would take immense pleasure in skewering him alive. Then he recalled Diana telling him about a group of rogue Amazons who'd slaughtered their brothers while she was away from the island on a JL mission.

She'd wept in his arms, blaming herself for not protecting the men, her brothers. He'd held her, disgusted by the story she'd told him, as well as his fluctuating power level, which she silently worried about.

That was the first time Clark recalled Diana ever looking at him as if he was a man she needed to protect, a man far less than the super one she was used to being with. Clark now knew his interpretation hadn't been entirely accurate or fair. But back then, he questioned everything and everyone, including Diana's love and trust.

Now he stood surrounded by a group of lethal Amazons, their swords sharp and aimed at him.

"I just want to speak to Diana." Clark raised his hands, showing the women he meant them no harm. "If someone would just tell her I'm here, I'm sure she'll see me. Tell her it's—"

"What are you doing here, Clark?"

Clark couldn't see the woman who approached from behind the wall of man-hating Amazons. But he recognized the voice, and then the body that floated into the air and hovered over the gathered crowd.

He was tempted to lift into the air as well, but he dared not make one move towards the Amazons' queen, even if that queen was his ex-girlfriend and lover.

So Clark waited, determined to follow Diana's lead. Although, if she asked him to leave her island, which was damn sure her right, he didn't think he'd be able to respect her wishes. Then what? Battle two dozen pissed-off Amazons?

"Thank you." Diana lowered herself to the ground, landing in the circle beside Clark. Her back to him. "Lower your weapons. This male intends us no harm, sisters."

Clark didn't like the way Diana said the word "male," even less than he liked the hesitancy the women had taken in obeying Diana's order. But they did obey, sheathing their weapons then turning their back on him as if Clark was the vilest, most loathsome of creatures.

Yeah, beautiful women abounded, but this island was damn sure no paradise for men.

Diana watched as her sisters walked down the beach, talking and, every so often, looking over their shoulder and glaring at him. Clark, well, Clark watched Diana.

He hadn't seen her in weeks. Even when he did, normally during League business, their conversation was minimal, talking only about the mission and nothing more personal than that. She'd said, months ago, that they made a good team. It was true. He hadn't known if she'd meant it as a reminder that they made a good team as Diana and Clark, no matter that he'd told her, only a short time before that, that he didn't know if he still loved her. Or whether it was Diana's way of telling him she accepted his decision and that, no matter what happened in their personal lives, Superman and Wonder Woman would always make for a good team.

Now, watching Diana, tanned and beautiful in a white tunic dress, feet bare, and ebony hair blowing in the summer breeze, Clark found that he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Beautiful. The woman was so god damn beautiful. And he'd missed her.

Her voice.

Her smell.

Her laughter.

Her touch.

Her love.

All of her. Everything about Diana, Clark had missed. But not the eyes. Not the eyes that just turned to him, blank and devoid of her usual spark. Those blue eyes of Diana's no longer sparkled when she gazed upon, not the way they used to. Now, when their eyes met, Clark saw only a professionally detached Diana looking back at him. And so it had been since they'd broken up, Diana withdrawing all of her warmth. Granting Clark only Wonder Woman, and a distant Wonder Woman at that.

They were still partners, made for the most formidable Justice League team. But nothing more, not even the friends they'd been before Clark had kissed Diana on the Lincoln Memorial. They hadn't gotten to that point in their break-up where they could return to their pre-relationship status.

It still hurt too much.

For her.

For him.

But they'd pretended. For the sake of the Justice League and the people they swore to protect, Diana and Clark had played the role of congenial former lovers in public. While completely ignoring each other in private, Diana all but retreating to her island home and Clark burying himself in work.

"You shouldn't have come. They could've killed you."

"You're wrong."

"The swords are magically enhanced. My sisters could've—"

"Not about that. About not coming. I should've come months ago."

Clark itched to touch her, to run his fingers through her hair and pull her in for a deep, sensual kiss. He'd been dreaming about those full, plump lips of hers, remembering how good they tasted, how sweet they felt against his.

But if he did that, Clark had no doubt she wouldn't have to kick him off her island. Her Amazon fist would send him into the stratosphere, red cape snapping, jaw throbbing.

Clark kept his hands and lips to himself.

"May we speak, Diana?"

She looked as if speaking to Clark was the last thing Diana wanted to do. And her words confirmed it. "There's nothing to talk about. The time for talking has past, Clark. It's been months, no point dredging up old arguments and ripping off scabbed-over wounds."

Scabbed-over wounds. Hardly. Clark's self-inflicted injuries had yet to begin to heal.

"Then I'll talk and you listen. If at the end of what I have to say, you still want me to go, I will and never bother you again. Fair enough?"

Clark held his breath. He had come there prepared to finally fight for Diana and their lost relationship. But if she truly no longer wanted him, cared about him, then Clark couldn't fight that. There was a reasonable window of opportunity to mend the rift he'd created between them, sparing them both pain and Diana a fair share of embarrassment when news of their break-up had gone viral. Social media at its worse. But that window had long since closed, which Diana had just alluded to.

Maybe she was seeing someone else. Perhaps that smooth-talking guy Clark had seen Diana with two months ago. The man was tall, fit, and a good dancer. And each laugh, each smile he garnered from Diana was a lance to Clark's heart.

He shouldn't have followed her, didn't mean to follow Diana and Hessia. But when Clark flew to Diana's London apartment, prepared to grovel, if need be, to get her back, he'd seen her jump into Hessia's Corvette, dressed in a sexy as sin red dress that hugged every god damn curve of her body.

Then the possessive, jealous Clark had taken over, stalking Diana to a nightclub twenty miles from her home. Worse, he'd watched her the entire night, up to and including the hour she spent dancing with some guy she met at the bar. Wanting any excuse to beat the hell out of the guy when he tried to put a move on her. But the moment never came, the man more mannerly than the barbaric thoughts ping ponging around in Clark's mind.

Not knowing what to do with his anger and jealousy, he'd followed Hessia's car, flying high above as to not be seen. When the healer had dropped Diana off, he was tempted to keep vigil. As if Diana needed his protection. Instead, Clark followed as Hessia drove herself home. She may be angry with him and could take care of herself, but Clark liked and respected the older woman. More, he was happy Diana had a friend like her.

By the time he'd returned to Diana's apartment, the lights were out and Diana asleep. Another window of opportunity lost.

Over the next few weeks, Clark had replayed that scene in the nightclub over and again. He'd been ready to rip the guy's head off. And for what? For speaking with a beautiful, single woman? For seeing the value in the woman Clark had so stupidly and callously threw away?

No, the man wasn't to blame. And didn't deserve Clark's scorn. He created this situation. And it was up to Clark to fix it. One way or another.

"I know I have no right to make any request of you, Diana. I know there were many times you wanted to talk about our relationship and I shut you out. You owe me nothing, least of all hospitality to an uninvited guest. But I'm asking anyway, because I have nothing else of value to lose. I thought I would feel better when my powers returned."

"You don't?"

"Will you sit with me, Diana?" Clark knew he was giving her the most abject, pathetic look he could muster. It worked for Krypto when he wanted Diana to give him more treats, maybe it would work for Clark. A man could hope to be at least as sympathetic as a dog.

Diana appeared unmoved.

Before she could verbally reject him, Clark removed his cape, placed it on the sand, and sat on one end.

After five minutes of mutely staring at the crystalline ocean, Diana claimed the spot on the other side of the cape – close but not touching.

Relieved, Clark dared not smile. This was a small victory. From the tense set of Diana's shoulders, Clark had a mountain to climb before the woman would forgive him, no less take him back. He'd been a jerk to her, and that was putting a mild spin on what Clark could now look back on as out of character behavior.

It was as if some hack writer was putting the most awful things in his mind and he, like a one-dimensional alpha character from a bad romance novel, said the words that had been written for him. Mindless and uncaring as to who he hurt, including him, the supposed hero of the novel.

True romance heroes didn't do crap like that, causing the heroine pain because of his own doubts, insecurities, and short-comings.

But maybe they did, Clark never one to read badly written works of literature. If bad romance novels could be considered works of literature, that is, and not just beach reads promising fun but giving forced drama and shallow characterization instead.

"I'm sorry."

Something he should've said to Diana a long time ago. Even now, months later, they weren't enough. But the words were overdue and needed to be said.

He shifted, so he could see her face, although her eyes were cast away from him. Still staring off into the distance. But she was there and Clark knew Diana was listening.

"I have so much to apologize for, I don't know where to begin. But let's start with the biggest one first." Clark risked a rebuke and touched Diana's hand. It rest, palm down, on his cape. He placed his hand over top of hers.

She turned then, her eyes going to where they touched. She didn't chastise him for touching her, but she did pull her hand away, securing it in the folds of her dress.

Yeah, okay, that hurt. But Clark was prepared to weather any Amazon storm. He may have been a coward. The way Bruce had accused. But he wasn't a coward in the general sense. And Clark wouldn't back away from this, from her, ever again.

"When I almost died and you took me to Mount Olympus to receive the Gift of Healing, Eros accused me of smothering my desire for you. Part of me knew he was right. But a bigger part was unwilling to admit to the truth. Because to admit that I loved you, wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, then I would also have to admit that I deliberately pushed you away for months. That I latched onto any excuse, no matter how ridiculous, to break-up with you because pushing you away didn't send you running."

Diana did face him then, anger and hurt rimming her eyes and coating her words. "You wanted me to leave you?"

"I thought I did. I thought it would be for the best. But I couldn't bring myself to be the one to walk away. Deep down, I didn't want either of us to walk away. But it took a lot of self-reflection to come to that realization. At the time, I was just angry and confused and channeled those emotions into pushing you away."

The hands in the folds of Diana's dress balled and then relaxed. She was pissed at him, that much was clear. But she only stared at him, breathing in deep, slow breaths before asking, "Why would you do that?"

Yeah, the question he knew she would ask. The answer wouldn't make her happy, although he would give Diana the truth she deserved. A truth he should've shared a long time ago.

"After we battled Zod and Faora, and survived the nuclear explosion, I came to you."

"I remember."

Clark cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. That afternoon, he'd visited his parents' gravesite, wishing he could tell them the news in person. But Ma and Pa Kent had long since been dead. They would never meet Diana, the woman he loved, the woman he wanted to marry. But he'd gone to the gravesite anyway, wanting to tell them the good news, his happy news. Then he'd flown off to London and Diana, his mother's engagement ring in his hand, a silly grin on his in-love face.

"You said you thought we should take a break. That things between us were moving too fast. And that being together almost cost thousands of innocent lives."

Clark laughed, not with humor but with sad remembrance. There he was, engagement ring hidden in the palm of his hand and Diana had just told him their relationship was dangerous. Before they split the atom with Diana's sword, Clark had confessed his love for her, thinking it was the last chance he'd be given to tell her how he truly felt about her.

It hadn't mattered when she didn't say it back. And it hadn't bothered Clark that Diana hadn't returned the words after they survived the explosion. He knew, in her prideful Amazon way, she loved him, which was why he felt confident in asking her to become his wife.

Yet she stood there, in the middle of her living room, appearing so unsure about their future and asking him for time to think things through. Asking to take a break in their relationship.

Clark had given it to her, of course. What else could he do? He was ready for marriage and everything that went with it, and Diana was barely ready for a serious relationship, her inability to openly speak her love for him cast in a new and heart-rending light.

So Clark had agreed to the temporary separation, flying away with his mother's engagement ring still fisted in his hand. His heart sputtering a rebuffed beat all the way home.

From there, no time ever seemed right to revisit the proposal, although Diana had eventually confessed her love for him. Yet somewhere, deep inside Clark, he never forgot how it felt to be so close to what he wanted, only to have Diana's fears and insecurities snatch it away.

He'd wanted her, but she hadn't wanted him. Well, she had, just not in the same way. Not as her husband and consort.

Clark told Diana all of this and she remained silent throughout, a single tear escaping an eye when he'd finished.

"It was too soon, Clark."

"For you maybe, but not for me."

Clark knew others would also view it as too soon, Clark and Diana dating for only a few months before he decided he wanted her to be his wife. But Clark had known. From the first kiss they'd shared, Clark knew Diana was the one for him. And dating her had only confirmed what his gut and heart had already concluded. He didn't know if it was a Kryptonian thing or whether it was just him, but Clark knew they were _made_ for each other. After a while, however, particularly when he began to lose his powers, he questioned whether they were _meant_ to be together.

So he, subtly and unconsciously, began to sabotage their relationship until he'd convinced himself that his love for Diana had waned.

An awful, painful truth to admit to the woman he loved more than life itself, but there it was. All out in the open – an ugly, bloody wound that oozed puss and pain.

"I don't know what to say." Diana wiped away more tears. "And I don't know what to do about what you told me." Wet eyes held his, melancholic and lost. "What do you want from me, Clark?"

Her love. Her trust. Her forgiveness. But that was too much, too soon. And yes, he still wanted to marry her. Something else that was too much, too soon.

"A date."

"A date?"

Clark nodded, not at all hopeful she would agree.

"We've had plenty of dates, Clark. You're asking for far more than that."

Yes, he was, but a date was a start. He couldn't expect more from Diana, not without working damn hard to first rebuild her trust and faith in him.

"Just a date, Diana. And maybe dancing."

"Dinner and dancing?"

She sounded skeptical, unsure of his veracity.

Clark pushed to his feet, then helped Diana to hers. After shaking the sand from his cape, Clark reattached it to his suit.

And Diana stared at him. Her eyes, once more, unreadable. But he knew she was thinking about all that he'd shared, trying to make sense and digest his confession.

It felt good to have no more lies and misunderstandings between them. As hard as the telling had been, Clark didn't regret the baring of his soul. No matter what the future held for them, Clark knew he could trust Diana.

It hadn't been her fault she wasn't ready back then. And it hadn't been Clark's fault that he had been. Sometimes two people were simply at different places at the same time. The key, Clark now understood, was being at the same place at the same time. And for that to happen, faith, trust, and patience must be an integral part of the relationship. Otherwise, well, he knew what a lack of all three bred – anxiety, lies, doubt.

"Will you at least think about having dinner with me?"

To his surprise, Diana looked up at Clark with so much tenderness in her eyes that, without thinking, he reached for her. He caressed her warm cheek with his trembling hand. Then she amazed him, because she was Diana and the biggest hearted person Clark knew. "I'm sorry for hurting you, all those months ago. I'm sorry it took me so long to love you the way you loved me. And I'm sorry for the pain we will cause each other in the future, because love and pain are inevitable. But I'll never be sorry for falling in love with you, for giving you my imperfect heart."

Clark's heart pounded against his chest, thudding so hard he was sure Diana could hear the delicate organ.

Unable to stop himself, Clark wrapped one arm, and then two around Diana's shoulders, pulling her into a hug they both desperately needed.

And they stayed like that, clinging to each other until the sun set and Diana's sisters came in search of their missing queen.

He didn't want to let her go, had no intention of letting her go. Diana felt too good. Her frame fitting perfectly in his arms. It was where she belonged, where Clark hoped she would always want to be.

But the moment had been lost. The Amazons presence on the beach reminding Clark that there were others on the island besides the two of them.

Clark lifted into the air, lighter than he'd been in months.

Diana hadn't promised to think about his dinner invitation. But that didn't matter. Clark trusted Diana to mull everything over and make the best decision for their future. She knew where he stood. The fact that he wanted her back was clear when he'd arrived on her island, willing to take on her man-hating sisters just to have a word with her.

And Clark knew where Diana stood. If she didn't want him anymore, she would've told him so. Instead, she'd permitted Clark to hold her, to soothe her silent pain.

And she'd forgiven him. In her apology was the forgiveness he so desired, but was afraid she would withhold. He should've known better. Diana forgave. That was a start.

This time, he wouldn't waste the opportunity she'd given him. This time, they would get it right.

They were the one and only Power Couple. And no hack writer would tear them apart. They were Superman and Wonder Woman – better together than they ever were apart.

Now and forever.

Clark smiled.

Diana waved goodbye.

And the following week, they had dinner. The first of many… A new start. A fresh beginning.

 **Thanks for reading**


	4. Chapter 4: Power Couple

**Chapter 4: Power Couple**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Several reviewers asked if I would write one more chapter, a sort of epilogue. It took me a week, but I finally got around to churning something out. It isn't anything we'll likely see in the comics, but that's not the point of fanfiction. Total fan service, and that's okay.

* * *

 **Part 1: Diana**

Diana stood on the balcony of her London apartment, eyes cast to the clear midday sky, wind in her upturned face, mind racing, stomach churning. Too much of this moment felt like déjà vu. She'd been there before, awaiting Clark's rival, nervous anticipation turning her palms sweaty.

Back then, however, her heart had leapt at the thought of seeing him again, of having a few uninterrupted hours alone with the man she was afraid to admit she was falling in love with.

Two years ago, their secret relationship and Clark's insistence on keeping it that way had plagued her mind, causing Diana to question her feelings for him and his for her. It had all seemed so complicated, a Gordian Knot of tangled, unsure emotions and lustful physical desires.

With a humorless smile, Diana lowered her eyes from the sky and to the crowd of Londoners – driving and walking their way into another beautiful Saturday afternoon.

If Diana had known then what she knew now, she could've spared herself hours of worry. She'd trade those "complicated" days from yesterday for the messy, painful days of today. Those had been easier times, simpler issues to combat and defeat. Although it hadn't appeared that way at the time.

Diana supposed that was the way of life, of hindsight.

Turning away from the bustling crowd below, Diana, feet bare and hair in a French braid that hung in a tamed black wave on her white silk blouse, walked to the small table for two and sat.

Although Clark wasn't late for their date, Diana felt weary, as if she'd been waiting for him for eternity. In a sense, she had.

Months. It had been months since he'd broken up with her. And even more before that when Clark had begun to erect emotional walls between them. She'd waited and hoped he would tear the walls down. Let her inside. Instead, he fortified them, holing himself in and keeping her out.

So Diana had waited. And waited. And waited.

She'd learned patience at her mother's knee. More, Hippolyta had taught Diana how to let the person you love go, even when it was the last thing you wanted to do. A bird held too tight, unable to spread its wings and fly, wasn't a bird at all, but a caged prisoner full of resentment and reproach.

So Hippolyta had let Diana go. Loving her enough to set her free so she could find her own path. But also trusting that Diana's new path would one day lead her back home. To the one who loved her above all others.

Diana hadn't understood or appreciated the gift Hippolyta had granted her all those years ago. Nor how painful it must've been for her mother to allow Diana to leave with no assurance of her return or ability to protect her should something happen that Diana couldn't handle.

When it came to Hippolyta, Diana harbored too many regrets, and even more emotional scars – deep, wide, and bloody.

Then there was Clark. Had he been a bird in a gilded cage? Was that how he'd come to view their relationship? Had Diana held him too tightly when all he wanted to do was fly away from her smothering, overprotective arms?

The thought brought an ache to her heart and her head. She didn't know. Diana wished she did.

Clark had returned to her. Yet she didn't know what to make of all he'd told her. Marriage. Gods, Clark had wanted to marry her. And so early in their courting, at that.

Diana shook her head, unable to wrap her mind around the flattering yet heartbreaking knowledge of his desire.

She'd had no idea, back then. Wouldn't have even considered the notion, especially in light of their secret affair. And now, well, Diana didn't quite know how she felt about the news. Yet one thing was for certain, Diana would not have, could not have accepted Clark's marriage proposal all those months ago.

They weren't ready, no matter that Clark thought he was. If he had been truly ready to take that monumental and life-changing leap with Diana, nothing would've stopped him, not even her insecurities and doubts. He would've forged ahead, fighting for Diana and the future he'd envisioned for them.

But he hadn't. Instead, Clark sulked, stewed, and brooded to the point of inaction and finally rejection.

Diana reached for and found the glass of cold water she'd left on the table. Wrapping her hand around the chilled glass, she sipped the ice clinking against the crystal sides of the glass. She reclined in the chair, the glass up to her mouth and her mind, as of late, on mistakes and memories.

She'd once told Zod and Faora that Clark was hers. She'd meant that single, possessive word. But one person could never belong to another, no matter the love between them. Belonging was given freely not claimed by word or even by deed.

For a while, yes, Clark had belonged to Diana. Giving himself to her in heart and body. And she'd returned the feeling, the expression of fidelity. But somewhere, in the turbulent months that had marked the beginning of the end of their relationship, Clark had ceased to be hers.

With Diana, but not truly in the relationship with her. Together yet separate.

The truth of what she had known, what she had sensed happening to them but refused to give voice to, burned her aching heart. A delusion she'd greedily accepted and unbecoming of the one who wore and wielded the Lasso of Truth.

Hearing the telltale sign of Clark's approach, Diana stood, walked into her apartment, put the glass in the sink, and found her high-heeled sandals. Slipping them on, she searched out and found her keys and purse.

By the time Clark landed, Diana had the balcony doors locked.

He smiled at her, blue eyes sparkling with the same wrench of nervous energy that assaulted Diana's Amazon senses. Then those beautiful orbs slipped to the hand that held her keys, wrinkled in the corners, and then lifted to hers.

He didn't say a word, but Diana knew what Clark was thinking, remembering. When she'd moved out, she'd left the key to his apartment on the dining room table. The ring, onto which the key hung, was the Superman charm he'd given her the day he'd slipped them into her purse. She'd discovered both when she'd returned home, unsure how she felt about the gesture but also warmed by Clark's faith and trust in her.

But when she'd moved out, Diana had left both behind, not wanting a cruel reminder of what no longer belonged to her.

Now she had a simple red-and-blue monographed button keychain she'd picked up the last time Hessia had dragged her shopping.

"You look great. Are you ready to go?"

Diana wore nothing special, just a simple blouse and a pair of black capris and sandals. Clark, for his part, was dressed just as casually – handsome as ever in a pair of loose-fitting blue jeans, dark-brown loafers, and a blue-and-brown stripped button-up shirt.

No Wonder Woman and Superman today. Just Diana and Clark.

"Thank you. You look good as well."

The compliment sounded forced, her voice uncharacteristically low. She hated this, the discomforted way she now felt around him. They'd known each other too long for them to now act like strangers. But that was just it. They knew each other so damn well, including the pain they'd caused the other.

More, Diana had no idea what they were actually doing or what this date meant. She hoped Clark did. "What do you want to do today?"

He hadn't said when she'd called to accept his dinner date. She'd considered his visit to Themyscira for an entire week before she decided to stop pondering the ramifications to her heart if she let Clark back into her life, to only have him walk away from her again.

"I don't have anything planned beyond eating and talking, Diana." Clark took a step toward her, his eyes full of both earnestness and trepidation. "We have a lot to work out if we want to try this relationship thing again. I know I want to. And I think you do as well. Otherwise, you wouldn't have called me." Another step. "I want so much. But I'm afraid. Afraid I'll mess up again. Afraid you won't want to trust me with your heart a second time. Afraid you don't love me the way you used to and never will."

Diana shared Clark's fears. And more. She had no answers for Clark. Yes, Diana still loved him, was still in love with Clark Kent. But he had hurt her. And while Diana had forgiven Clark, she wasn't yet ready to entrust her heart to his care again.

The truth of that must've registered on her face because Clark nodded and smiled with gloomy acceptance.

"Eating and talking sounds like a good idea. Do you want to stay in London or fly elsewhere?"

"How does a picnic sound?"

Diana smiled. "Like I'll be flying to Smallville."

"Am I that obvious?" He seemed to like the idea of being obvious, at least to her. When he smiled, this time, hopeful happiness reached his eyes.

"I've always enjoyed picnics on the Kent farm. And I've seemed to have developed a fondness for your crispy fried chicken, homemade apple pie, and potato salad."

The smile grew, morphing from hope to pride. Clark was an interesting mix of human, alien, and hero. Diana loved all three. And while it was Superman, the alien and hero, she'd met first and had been attracted to, it was Clark Kent, the human, who she'd dreamed of and worried about when Superman's powers had begun to fade.

She hadn't known how to handle that, other than to be his shield, his sentry. The thought of losing him, of Clark being killed by a vengeful villain was too unfathomable and painful to contemplate.

Yes, they needed to talk. So a private picnic for two was an excellent alternative to a restaurant full of people. Who, no doubt, would pay more attention to having Superman and Wonder Woman in the same eatery as them than their meal.

Flying at a leisurely pace, Clark and Diana arrived at the Kent farm in under ten minutes. They hadn't spoken during the flight. But they had taken pleasure in the quiet company of the other.

It wasn't until Diana had helped Clark put down the red-and-black checkered blanket and basket of food under a gigantic tree that afforded them plenty of shade that they'd settled their nerves enough to enjoy the heat of the day and each other's company.

Popping a red seedless grape into his mouth, Clark reclined on his side, head propped in the palm of his right hand and stared up at Diana. Who, as soon as she'd filled her plate, had removed her sandals and found a comfortable spot against the large tree trunk to enjoy Clark's delicious cooking.

And while she was still on her first plate, Clark had already eaten three, including a bowl of fruit he was steadily making his way through.

"I missed flying."

"Missed flying?"

"Yeah, when I lost most of my powers. I think I missed flying the most. It was something, like super strength and speed, I took for granted." Clark tossed back two strawberries, making sure to finish chewing before continuing. "I don't define myself by my powers, Diana, you know I don't. But they are a part of me, like my arms and legs. And when they were gone, or would come and go, I felt like half a man, incomplete and vulnerable."

"I know. But I didn't know how to help you. How to convince you that I didn't see you differently because of the change."

Clark hadn't said those words, but she knew he'd felt them.

"Is that true, Diana?" Clark sat up. "Because I don't think that it is. How could you have not looked at me differently? I wasn't the same man you dated, fell in love with, and took as a lover. I was weaker, slower, unable to fly by your side. Like an equal. A true partner."

Diana placed her half-eaten plate of food beside her, her appetite suddenly gone.

"You misunderstand, Clark. I didn't love or care for you any less because of what happened with your powers. That's what I meant when I said I didn't see you any differently."

"But you did view me as weaker, less of an equal."

"Not in the way that you're implying." How to put this without offending him or hurting his feelings? "You were weaker, Clark. At least physically. And I would be lying if I didn't admit that your weakened state frightened the hell out of me. People were after you. It seemed as if everyone wanted their pound of flesh from the depowered Superman. So I was worried, wanted to protect you in a way I never had before. But none of that means I viewed you as my inferior, as a man no longer capable of being my partner, my equal."

"It felt that way to me. I know it's not your fault. I can't rightfully blame you for wanting to keep me safe, especially since I want the same for you, even with your powers. And I know it's the height of sexism to want to be the one doing the saving and protecting. But it made me feel less than a man of worth every time you had to furry me around or save my ass from the likes of a bat-wielding villain like Harley Quinn."

It was quite sexist – Clark's double standard. She didn't like it, refused to accept, no matter how long she resided in Man's World, men's preoccupation with being dominant. Still, Clark was a product of his human environment as much as Diana was a product of hers. She couldn't expect him, raised in a patriarchal society, to not hold certain beliefs about the role of men and women that could challenge the very foundation of her own beliefs.

As an Amazon and a goddess, Diana couldn't help but admire physical strength. But such admiration was coupled with how the individual chose to use their strength, as well the heart and mind that exercised such power.

Without Clark's loving heart and mind, all his super powers would've meant little to Diana.

"Would you have sought me out, if your powers weren't returned to you?" It was a lack of an answer to this question that had kept Diana from calling for a week, undecided whether to try again.

Clark didn't look at all surprised by her question. But it also didn't appear as if he had a ready reply.

Taking a long pull from a bottle of water, Clark didn't answer immediately. When he did, however, it was with a truth she appreciated, which made it no less painful to hear.

"I don't think I would have, Diana. I know it's awful for me to say and not fair to you. But you need a man who can keep up with you. A man you can rely on to have your back in a battle. A man who won't get you killed because you're preoccupied trying to keep him safe instead of fighting the enemy in front of you. Even though you may not care what they think, you need a partner who your sisters and god family will respect, even if grudgingly."

Diana frowned at Clark, tempted to argue and put an end to the ache in her chest. "I dislike everything you've just said. Intensely."

"I knew you would. But I don't hear you disagreeing. It's an ugly truth, Diana, and one I'm not proud of. A goddess, even a demigoddess, don't belong with a mere man, your wings clipped because he can't follow. Would you want that, Di? To be limited? Denied all the world has to offer a woman of your status and power?"

No, she wouldn't. But Clark didn't understand, viewing the possibility through a tainted lens of male pride and ego.

She snatched the bottle of water from Clark's hand and finished what was left, tossing the empty bottle into the basket when she was done.

"You know, Clark, I've never liked the way you make decisions for us both. Nor the way you believe you know me better than I know myself." Diana stood. "You're going to have to work on that because I can and will love any one I choose – a super man or a 'mere' man. You don't get to define me because of your own fears. If you cannot accept that I want and accept all of you – empowered or not, then I can return to London."

Diana glared down at Clark, so damn annoyed with him. She didn't care that he'd cooked all her favorite Ma Kent dishes. Nor did she care he'd worn the cologne she so loved on him – Polo Red, a sexy sweet aroma that once was a prelude to naked bodies and sweaty sheets. And she absolutely did not care that he was looking up at her with heated desperation.

And something else.

Something carnal, primal, dangerous.

With blinding Kryptonian speed, Clark moved. Diana's back slammed against the tree, shaking the mountainous oak and ripping bark from the trunk. Fierce hands went to her head. Thick fingers dug into neck and scalp, and mouth found hers and took.

Claimed.

She didn't kiss him back. Refused to reward Clark's barbaric behavior with her feminine acquiescence. No, he would be made to understand.

Slam. Thud.

Clark's head and back against the tree. Diana ripped her mouth from his, licked her lips, and then kissed him.

Hard. Rough. Angry.

There was nothing tender about the brutal embrace. It wasn't meant to be. But the ferocity of the kiss did nothing to take away from the sheer power and magnitude of the emotions running from one and into the other.

Clark's lips traveled from her mouth and to her throbbing neck. He bit, locking his teeth onto her pulsing neck and sank in, as if she were a succulent piece of fruit he'd been snacking on earlier.

Diana moaned, recalling all the wonderful ways Clark could pleasure her with his teeth, his lips, his tongue.

And it felt so damn good. Had been so damn long.

With force, she pushed away from Clark, breathless and needy.

His eyes registered confusion, the bulge in his pants Clark's unfulfilled desire.

A strong hand reached for Diana but she evaded Clark, putting even more distance between them.

"Don't you dare fly away." There was an edge of warning in his husky voice. Telling Diana, if she ran away, he would follow. "You did that the last time."

She had. Kissing Superman had unnerved Diana then and kissing Clark unnerved her now. But Diana wouldn't fly off. She had matured much since the first time they'd kissed. Yet she had no intention of giving in to her needs and wants.

Not now.

Not yet.

"It's too soon. You shouldn't have kissed me. And I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Kissing you was the only thing I could think of to make you stay. You were going to leave before giving me a chance to win back your heart and trust." Clark ran a frustrated hand through his dark locks. "I know I can't rush this… rush you. I also know I'm the reason why we're not together. And that I have to be patient with you and myself. But it's a lot harder than I thought it would be. Seeing you, speaking with you, having you so close but not being able to simply reach out and touch makes me feel like we're back at square one. As if the last two years were a dream."

"Not a dream, Clark. And we're not back at square one. But I can't just pick up where things left off, pretend as if the last few months didn't happen. I can't sleep with you, make love with you, while so much remains unresolved between us. It's not a matter of want and desire because I feel both."

"It's a matter of trust?"

She hadn't wanted to be so blunt with him. "Yes, it's a matter of trust. You have to trust me, as much as I have to be able to trust you. And honestly, I'm not sure if you do trust me, Clark. Not with your heart. You may want me, but I believe there is still a part of you that thinks we're too different, our lives too complicated to make a relationship work, to have a happily-ever-after like your parents."

Clark fell back against the battered trunk of the tree but not in defeat. He was listening, so Diana kept talking.

"We aren't your parents. And we can never be them. No more than we are my parents, although we are as powerful as they were."

"Does that mean we shouldn't try to aspire to have the kind of relationship the Kents had?"

"It means we should aspire to have the kind of relationship that makes sense for who and what we are. To do otherwise is a recipe for failure. I don't want to be them. I want to be us. For me, that has always been enough. You have always been enough – with or without your powers."

Pushing from the tree, Clark edged closer to Diana. This time, however, he kept his hands to himself.

"So, umm, no sex?"

"Yes, no sex."

"For how long?"

Diana had no idea. It had already been months since she and Clark had last been intimate. And maybe if she didn't so desperately want things to work out between them she would give in to her lustful cravings and allow Clark to take her inside the house and to his bed. Hell, on the checkered blanket at their feet.

But Diana did want that happily-ever-after she'd mentioned, no matter how fanciful or unrealistic it may seem to others. Their lives were, without a doubt, complicated. And being together would make it no less so.

"When we're ready. Sure of ourselves and each other."

"I am sure, Di. Sure I love you. Sure I want to marry you. And sure I want to have sex with you. Right here. Right now. Or in the barn. The house. London. Themyscira. Mount Olympus. The freakin' moon. Anywhere you will have me, I want you just that much."

Diana couldn't help it. She laughed.

A second later, so did Clark.

Gracious, what were they going to do with each other?

In silent agreement, they sat back down. Diana's back, once more, went to the trunk of the tree.

"Is this okay?"

Diana glanced down at Clark. He'd grabbed an apple, taken a big bite, and reclined on the blanket, his head in her lap, eyes gazing up and at her.

She smiled, scratched her head with her right hand and rested her left arm on Clark's impressively wide chest, a hand on his shoulder. Feeling the soft, warm texture of his cotton shirt.

"It's fine, Clark."

It was more than fine, but he needn't know that.

In no time at all, Clark had polished off his apple.

"Fair warning, Diana, I'm going to do all in my power to re-earn your trust and" —Clark sat up and began nibbling the lobe of Diana's ear— "coax you back into my bed. I want both. Your faith in my love, my devotion, and your legs wrapped around my hips, my body inside of yours."

Oh, but the man was trying to seduce her. Making Diana weak with his ardent kisses and roaming hands.

But she'd managed, barely, to hold onto her sanity and her clothing. Sending Clark home with a chaste kiss to his cheek and a promise for dinner and dancing next weekend, when he'd escorted Diana back to her London apartment.

They had spent the entire day together. It had been glorious. And Diana knew, in a matter of weeks, she would allow Clark to seduce her into his bed. More likely, she'd invite him into hers.

* * *

 **Part 2: Clark**

"Which one, Hessia?"

"The cute black clutch bag."

"Thanks to you, I have a dozen of them. You'll have to be more specific."

Clark followed the sound of Diana's voice. She'd left the balcony doors unlocked for him. When he'd arrived, he heard her speaking on the phone to her sister. Even without Diana having her cell on speakerphone, Clark would've still been able to hear Hessia's side of the conversation.

Not giving himself time to reconsider the appropriateness of going into Diana's bedroom, Clark walked through the living room, down the hall, and into a room he knew as well as his bedroom in Metropolis.

Despite dating for nearly two months, Diana had deftly avoided spending time with Clark in a place she, for a short while, had called home. But she had flown to the Kent farm and the Fortress and permitted him to visit her in her London apartment.

In fact, tonight's date was to be there. For all of Clark's talk of Diana needing a man whose power-set matched her own and Diana's claim they were nothing like his parents, they'd spent the last seven weeks engaged in banal activities like hiking, dancing, visiting museums, and going to the theater. True, they often did those things in other countries. But once there, Diana and Clark were as much a normal tourist as anyone else.

And it was so much fun. Human, normal, but not quite. As Diana had said, they weren't like others. They had to be themselves, and being them was good enough.

"I don't even know why you want to borrow the purse anyway. You have so many already."

Clark stood just inside Diana's bedroom, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her hover inside her large walk-in closet, cell phone in one hand, her other removing lids from boxes from the highest shelf in her closet.

"Hardcase, wallet, satin, shiny, leather? Give me a clue as to what I should be looking for. Glitter-woven, mesh, pleated?"

Yeah, Diana actually had all those different kinds of purses, which had Clark smiling. Diana may have been a warrior of the first order but she was, first and foremost, a woman who, when she put down her shield and sword, knew how to dress with impeccable style.

"It's the one you had when we went to Cargo."

"Cargo. That was four months ago, Hessia. How in the world do you expect me to remember—"

"Heart lock envelope clutch," Clark blurted.

Diana glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes questioning but not surprised by his presence. Her hearing godly acute.

Floating to the right side of her closet, Diana found a box, removed the lid, reached inside, and pulled out the expensive little purse Clark recalled Diana slipping a man's business card into.

And then he swore under his breath. Too damn helpful for his own good.

"I have it. I'll drop it pass the dojo on my way to Themyscira tomorrow morning."

"Great. Thank you, Diana. Hello, Clark."

"Hi, Hessia." Stupidly, Clark waved, as if the Amazon could see him through the phone. But Diana was glaring at him, her feet now planted on the floor, focus on him and no longer the purse she'd been hunting for.

The purse he'd foolishly helped her locate.

"See you tomorrow, Hessia." Diana ended the call, her eyes never wavering from Clark's. "Sometimes I forget you have an eidetic memory. Care to explain, Clark?"

Clark walked further into Diana's massive and elegant bedroom. Heck, it was more like a suite than a mere bedroom. A queen-size bed was fitting. A bed they'd spent hours in pleasuring each other. A bed he could envision a naked Diana in right now.

Not that she was naked, of course. But a man could dream. And damn how he'd been dreaming about Diana these past few weeks. Dreaming of her large, perfect breasts, her sensually rounded hips, her sexy thick thighs, her wet—

"I knew I felt someone watching me that night. I can't believe it was you, Clark. Did you follow me to Cargo? Wait, foolish question. Of course, you did. How else would you have known about the purse?"

Diana moved to her red couch and sat. Clark followed her lead and sat next to her, feeling guilty and not knowing how to explain what he'd done and why.

"In case you're wondering, it was only the one time. And I didn't even mean to do it then."

"You didn't mean to watch me all night?" Her tone of voice registered Diana's incredulity.

"Well, umm, I kinda couldn't help myself. Actually, I just wanted to make sure you and Hessia got to wherever you were going safely. Then I was going to fly away."

"But you didn't."

No, he hadn't. He'd stayed, watching Diana from the shadows like some god damn stalker.

"I know I should've said something, made my presence known. But I didn't know what your reaction would be. Well, pretty much like the reaction you're giving me now, I suppose. I'm not some weirdo who stalked his ex-girlfriend, Diana. You know me better than that. Besides, you were too busy to notice me, anyway."

One dark eyebrow arched. "Really, Clark, you want to go there? You dumped me, remember?"

He hadn't forgotten. And he was too smart to answer Diana's question. But he was also a man who hadn't liked seeing the woman he loved hit on by another man, no matter that they were broken up at the time.

"Did you keep the card? Eventually decide to call him?"

"We are not having this conversation, Clark."

He didn't want to either, but his mouth kept opening and stupid stuff kept spewing all over an irritated Diana.

"You seemed to enjoy his company. He made you laugh. Smile."

Which pissed Clark the hell off. Because, dammit, he had done nothing to make Diana laugh or smile in what felt like forever. He'd been unhappy and he'd made sure to infect her with his emotional malaise.

But a stranger, a man he had no doubt Diana thought attractive, had done what Clark hadn't bothered with doing in months. He'd taken the time to talk to her, to listen to her, to see her as Diana.

"I punished myself that night. It was what I deserved, seeing you enjoy yourself with another guy. And it wasn't only him, Diana, who noticed you that night." Clark's laugh was brittle and full of self-reproach. "I was such a fool. So arrogant and blind."

Diana blew out an annoyed breath. "You drive me crazy, Clark Kent. Sometimes, I have no idea what to say to you or how to respond to what you say to me. It's enough to make me consider returning to Themyscira and never returning to Man's World."

Clark knew Diana would never do that, but he grasped her point and her hand. Bringing it to his lips, Clark kissed the palm. "And you drive me crazy. Tell me something I have no right to know or to ask. Tell me when you were dancing with him you were thinking of me."

Diana closed her eyes and sighed. And Clark knew she had been thinking about him. But not in the way he'd hoped. _Trying to forget me. Move on with her life after I broke up with her._

"You shouldn't have followed me."

"I know." A whispered admission.

Diana's eyes opened, and there was pain in their blue depths. "Nathan was a very nice and intelligent man. Funny and sweet. I don't even think he knew I was Wonder Woman, which made him all the more adorable." Diana twisted their hands so she held his up to her lips. She kissed Clark's palm the way he'd done to her. "But the sight and touch of him didn't quicken my pulse, heat my skin, and squeeze my heart the way the mere thought of you does. And it made me sad and angry that you still had that type of effect on me, even when I was dancing and having fun with a handsome man."

Diana's confession should've made Clark feel better. But it didn't. Nothing that involved Clark causing Diana pain made him feel good about how he'd mishandled things between them back then. And he'd just given her another reason to not trust him with her heart.

 _Damn me._

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No." Diana got to her knees and, to Clark's surprise and delight, straddled his hips. "I want you to make love to me."

Surely he hadn't heard the woman correctly. No way, after his display of irrational jealousy, had Diana just propositioned him.

"I don't get it." He sounded like a sixteen-year-old about to have sex for the first time and not sure how to take off his girlfriend's bra.

Diana chuckled, sexy and flirty. God, how he'd missed that sound.

"You will if you stop staring at me as if I'm a leprechaun holding a pot of gold, and get undressed."

Clark still didn't get it. What in the hell was he missing? And why was Diana, _hell yes_ , taking off her blouse?

Yup, there the cotton garment went, over her head and onto the arm of the sofa. Leaving Diana in a sexy as sin red lace bra.

"Tell me what I did right, so I can do it again."

Her smile was indulgent, her hands not so much. For Diana had just divested Clark of his own shirt, tossing it somewhere over her shoulder.

"Six months ago you would've kept your anger and jealousy on the inside. You would've pretended everything was fine while being a passive-aggressive pain in my backside. You would've hidden, from me, from yourself. Built walls and shut me out."

"That didn't work out so great for us the last time."

And he'd broken both their hearts, as a result. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Lose Diana again.

"Do you want me, Clark?"

"Stupid question. I never stopped wanting you, Diana, even when I thought I had. I want you like I need the sun. More."

Her head lowered to his neck, planting petal soft kisses along Clark's collarbone. "That's good because I think we're ready."

As much as Clark wanted this, wanted her, wanted to fly Diana to her bed and make love to her for hours, he had to ask one question. "Are you sure, Di? Really sure?" Diana raised her head, eyes as serious as the precipice that lay before them. "I don't want you to have any regrets afterward. Because if we do this, there's no going back. We're back together. Not just friends. Not simply colleagues. Not two people who spend time together and have romantic dates when time allows. But a couple. You, me, us. Together."

For long, excruciatingly long seconds, Diana only stared at him. He didn't know what she was searching for, what her discerning eyes could see that he hadn't already shared with her. These past seven weeks, they'd bared their souls to each other. And it had been both painful and empowering.

They were stronger for it, at least, that's what Clark thought.

Without saying a word, Diana levitated off Clark, removed her clothing while in the air, and then settled on the silky sheets of her bed. Nude. Smiling. And giving Clark the most erection-producing come-hither look he'd ever seen.

Two seconds. Two seconds was how long it took Clark to shuck his clothes and pounce on the Amazon beauty who dared to taunt him with her luscious body and siren's call.

Then they were devouring each other. Kissing like they'd never kissed before, all ravenous mouths and enthusiastic tongues.

Slurping.

Sucking.

Biting.

Hell yes. Diana tasted so god damn good, felt like fiery silk draped over a smooth plane of passion and muscles.

Parting her, Clark delved inside – his fingers, his tongue.

Caressing.

Teasing.

Pleasing. Her. Diana. His love.

Holding onto bucking hips, Clark licked and sucked. His index and middle fingers in deep, tongue working Diana's clit like a sex-starved fiend from Tartarus.

 _Clark. Clark._ Diana's orgasmic screams were enough to break the sound barrier. But not enough to halt what Clark was doing to her. Seven weeks and too many god damn months.

He wouldn't be rushed, wouldn't stop one minute before he had to, before Diana could take no more and he was exhausted. And, considering she was an immortal Amazon and he a Kryptonian fueled by the sun, Clark might as well take out real estate, because he intended to be there a good long while.

They were, after all, the Power Couple of the _D_ amn _C_ entury.

* * *

 **THE END**


End file.
